


3.11

by bonebo



Series: Kinktober 18 [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Crossdressing, M/M, Period lingerie, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: He’d grabbed it weeks ago after a one night stand with a dame immigrating from France, too curious to let the opportunity pass him by--but this is the first time that Bucky has had a chance to dig in the back of his closet and pull out the sleek black box, wrapped in pale ribbon and light in his hands. He glances out the ajar bedroom door and into the hall of his and Steve’s apartment, then to the clock; he should have at least another hour until Steve gets back from the docks.Plenty of time to experiment.





	3.11

He’d grabbed it weeks ago after a one night stand with a dame immigrating from France, too curious to let the opportunity pass him by--but this is the first time that Bucky has had a chance to dig in the back of his closet and pull out the sleek black box, wrapped in pale ribbon and light in his hands. He glances out the ajar bedroom door and into the hall of his and Steve’s apartment, then to the clock; he should have at least another hour until Steve gets back from the docks.

Plenty of time to experiment.

So Bucky sets the box on the bed and opens it, and reaches in to gently extract his stolen goods: a shimmery satin, cream-colored bullet bra, an all-in-one lace-up girdle and garter belt made of ivory silk, and dark stockings with bold black lines up the back of the calves. Beneath the lingerie is a simple pair of white tap pants, complete with lace trim; they’re sinfully soft in Bucky’s calloused fingertips, and when he manages to squeeze into them he can feel his cock starting to stir against their silky confines.

The girdle comes next--Bucky takes a deep breath before he starts to lace it up, watching each tug of the laces shrink his waist, bit by bit--and by the time he can no longer ignore the relentless pressure it puts on his ribcage, the way it steals the end of every breath, he deems it tight enough. 

Bucky has to sit on the edge of the bed to get the stockings on, thanks to the restraint of the girdle. He lifts one leg at a time and pulls them up slowly, watching the fabric stretch around the muscles in his calves and over his knees, pulled taught across his thick thighs before being clipped to the garter belt. When he stands he can feel the soft rustle of the fabric between his thighs, and it nearly takes his knees out from under him.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes, reaching down to give himself a squeeze through the soft layers of underwear--it’s nothing but a tease, nowhere near what his throbbing dick wants, but enough to take the worst of the edge off. He stares down at the bra, laid out on the bed like the completely everyday object that it is, and can’t help the tremble in his fingers as he grabs for it.

He turns to face the mirror, watching his reflection lift the bra and position it over the flat, muscular planes of his chest; slowly, carefully, his fingers find the clasps, and the sound of the hook sliding into place sounds as loud as a gunshot.

Bucky lowers his hands and stares at himself in the mirror--a body undeniably masculine, muscled, the perfect image of an American soldier, all wrapped up in lace and silk with a raging erection tenting the front of his panties. Bucky is so caught up in his reflection, in the indent the delicate silk makes against the muscles bulging under his skin, to notice that he has a visitor.

Until he hears Steve’s voice.

“What a sight to come home to--you’re such a good wife, Buck.”


End file.
